Mending
by Lightning647
Summary: She didn't run to him and kiss him passionately when she first saw him after the end of the war. She merely stepped forward and took him into her arms. Because that was what he needed. Post-HBP.


We all know that Harry will most likely be down after the defeat of Voldemort, becoming a murder, but what if Harry doesn't need any help

"Sh, Harry, I'm right here. Voldemort's gone. I'm right here," Ginny whispered into Harry's ear, whose body was trembling on the bed, his mouth muttering incoherent words. He was having another nightmare.

"It's okay, Harry. We're going to get through this," she added, running her hands through his hair, hugging him close. She held him like that until he stopped shaking and returned to a peaceful dream. She did not go back to sleep, though. She stared at the wall above his head, seeing nothing.

Morning rose, the sun spilling out onto the bed, and Ginny waited patiently for Harry to awake. Soon enough, he sighed into her neck, and shifted, raising his head to look at her.

"Good morning," she said, offering a weak smile. He didn't say anything, but stared at her face, tracing her cheek with his hand, his fingers lingering at the bags under her eyes.

"I'm going to take a shower, but I'll be right back, okay?" Ginny said, watching him nod his head. She kissed his forehead and climbed out of bed.

Under the burning jet stream of the water, Ginny let her tears fall, before finishing up her shower and turning off the knob. Dressed, she opened the door and found Harry standing there. She took his hand and led him into Ron's room.

She sifted in his trunk and gave him a pair of clothes and a spare towel before ushering him into the bathroom. Closing the door after herself, she said "I'll be right here when you're done."

Ginny led him downstairs after his shower, and sat him down at the breakfast table. Most of the family was already there, chatting lightly, giving weak smiles to the couple. Ginny grabbed a plate and filled it with food. She tore off a piece of toast, and lifted her hand to Harry's mouth.

His eyes darted to hers, and then to the food. He leaned forward hesitantly and took the toast into his mouth, chewing without tasting it. Ginny tore off a piece herself and ate it. She poured a glass of pumpkin juice and tipped the edge between Harry's lips. He took a small sip, and then allowed her one.

Ginny switched between all the foods until they had eaten half the plate. Ginny then thanked her mother for the meal, and took Harry to the den. He sat down on a sofa while she picked out their books. Sitting down horizontally from him, she handed him his book and propped her legs onto his lap.

She knew that he never read his book, but it was a skit that they did every morning. Ginny would read for about an hour, Harry would rest his book on her legs and would stare at her for the time.

After reading that morning, Ginny shut her book, and smiled at Harry. She took his book and placed them back on the book shelf. She peered out the window and looked back at him.

"It's quite sunny today. Would you like to go outside?" she asked him. He shrugged, so she walked back to him and took his hand. They went through the backdoor of the kitchen, people stopping to look. Ginny led him out in the tall grass and halted in the middle of the field.

"This seems like a nice place, doesn't it?" she let go of his hand and sat down, lying on her back. Harry soon mimicked her position. They gazed up at the blue sky for a while, basking in the sun.

Ginny sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head towards the sun, relishing the warmth of it playing on her face. She felt the grass under her fingers, felt the wind teasing her face, felt the presence of Harry next to her. He was staring at her now. She slowly opened her eyes, turned her head to look at him.

The summer day wore on as they stared at each other, until finally Harry said something.

"Thank you, Gin."

"For what?"

Harry peered closely into her eyes. He moved closer to her body, and reluctantly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her on top of him. Ginny drank in the sensation of Harry touching her.

"Everything," Harry breathed into her face, answering her question.

Ginny's lips tugged upwards into a genuine smile, the first one in a while, instead of a fake, weak one. She watched in fascination as Harry's lips did the same thing. Her heart raced at the sight of his smile, his hands around the small of her back.

"I love you, Gin," Harry said, moving up to meet his lips to hers. His words were enough for Ginny to stop breathing, but his kisses after such a long while added a skip in her heart. It started out tender, testing, and loving.

But then, his hands tightened on her middle, moving upwards to her hair, exploring the auburn tendrils. His mouth moved against hers in a more urgent way, and she responded quickly, parting her lips as his tongue ran across them.

Their heads moved in sync of their kiss, and Ginny's hair made a halo on the left side of Harry's face. Their lips brushed one another's, his hands teasing her sides, sliding up and down as their lips continued to have minds of their own.

Pulling apart and breathing heavily, Ginny told him that she loved him back. That was all it took for him to reach back up and search her lips for a second time.

A few more wonderful kisses later, Ginny rested her head on Harry's shoulder, breathing onto his neck. His arms were still wrapped around her.

"Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Yes?" Ginny responded, traces circles on his chest.

"I think—I think I'm ready to tell you what happened."

Ginny lifted her head and looked at him. His eyes expressed that he was a little scared, but assured to share.

"Okay," Ginny agreed. "But you know you don't have to, I mean if you need more time—"

"No, I'm ready. I just—need to go slow."

"Of course, Harry."

He took a deep breath and began. "Well, you see, there are these things called hor-horcruxes," Harry stumbled over the word. "And…they're objects that you can put part of your soul into. You could put it into anything, but you have to…you have to kill someone to rip your soul." Harry took a shuddering breath, and Ginny stroked his cheek, horrified at the Dark Magic.

"So-so Voldemort had a horcrux?" she asked.

"He had seven pieces of his soul," Harry confirmed, his eyes piercing into hers. She tried to steady her breathing. "So if I killed him, he could still come back. When Dumble-Dumbledore told me about them, we already had two destroyed. One-one was a ring that he took care of."

"And the other?" Ginny pressed when he did not continue.

"The—the other I destroyed without even knowing it. It was—it was the diary." He felt her tense and squeezed her waist, allowing her a moment to recover in his neck. "I think—I think I've said enough for today."

She pulled her face away from his neck and looked at him again. "If you think so."

He nodded. "Tomorrow."

Ginny got up, and he followed. They held hands and walked back to the burrow, small smiles on their faces.

They had achieved what they had wanted ever since the end of the war.

A day where they started to mend all their bruises, cuts, and wounds.

--


End file.
